


peace at ballonlea

by orphan_account



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Domestic, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, opal isn't the abuser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:55:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22827517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "I'd say that's enough training for today, child. How does a warm cup of tea back at home sound?""...Sure."Opal quietly laughs at the informal remark as she walks alongside Bede -- with Rapidash trotting along just on the other side of him -- to the hollow entrance, through the door that leads back to Ballonlea, lifts her cane a tad to give him a light nudge on the calf. "You know I told you to put some respect in those words!"
Relationships: Beet | Bede & Poplar | Opal
Comments: 6
Kudos: 66
Collections: BeadsAndOpals





	peace at ballonlea

**Author's Note:**

> sry if the section i used for the description was a little weird, i didn't know what to put there lol

It's another quiet day in Ballonlea, the forest-nestled town only brightened by the ghostly cool-colored luminescence of the fungi many feet taller than those in the small residences of the cottages built from black-and-white bark; the quiet murrs of the fairy-type Pokemon that reside nearby in the Tangle and the buzzing of the Morelull are the only sounds that populate the silence.

For Bede, it's another day at Opal's gym, doing his usual training sessions with his Pokemon and hers. As selfish and rude as he makes himself seem to others -- and he really has been working on getting that attitude under control -- he, truly, was very thankful to her. She took him in when Rose put his hands on him one last time, threw him out, made him spend the night in the harsh rains of the wild area; left him for dead. She didn't have to adopt him.

...

"Zen Headbutt." Bede commands his Rapidash with a grace ever so slightly tinted with what was left of his arrogance. The pastel-paletted unicorn bows its head, and the horn that inhabits the in-between of its purple bangs glows a light shade of maroon. In an instant, its willpower alone converts to psychic energy that powerfully impacts the Weezing across the room. The damage was enough for the factory-esc dual-type to fall unconscious to the ground.

Opal reaches a hand into her scarf, pulls it back out with the Weezing's respective Pokeball in its grip. With a click, the Weezing turns into red energy before their eyes and gets sucked back into the capsule. "Good, good!" Opal claps, praises the boy's efforts, "I feel you'll make a fine successor, Bede."

"You think so, hm?"

As Rapidash's head rises back from a bow, the glow in its horn fades back into the deep purple that naturally tints the spur. Opal stops her clapping to place Weezing's Pokeball back into her scarf, then tightens the grip on her cane to support herself as she waltzes up to Bede. 

"I'd say that's enough training for today, child. How does a warm cup of tea back at home sound?"

"...Sure."

Opal quietly laughs at the informal remark as she walks alongside Bede -- with Rapidash trotting along just on the other side of him -- to the hollow entrance, through the door that leads back to Ballonlea, lifts her cane a tad to give him a light nudge on the calf. "You know I told you to put some respect in those words!"

...

The cottages were much bigger on the inside than they seemed outside.

It's spacious enough for Bede to let his Pokemon out to roam and play -- he never liked having them kept in their pokeballs all the time. He does wish he could walk with them out in public, too, but walking Pokemon that are well known for harming people -- like his ace, Hatterene -- isn't the most legal thing.

Bede sits cozily on the pink-fabriced sofa, yellow dimmed lights connected to the candle-shaped bronzes of the chandelier above illuminate the sight of Sylveon, curled up and snug on his lap; the only barrier between skin and claw is a blanket with fabric just as soft as Sylveon's fur. The cup of tea feels hot in his hands, and scorching to his tongue. He notices his eyelids getting heavier as he waits for the tea to cool down, and he reads the time of the analog clock connected to the top right of the wall just behind him.

_2:35 a.m._

Ah.

They always went to the gym in the afternoon to practice, and came back late. Never this late, though; but it is easy to get caught up in the moment when training.

Sylveon's fur is velvety to the touch as he continues to stroke it, scritches it with one hand, and takes sips of the scorching tea with the other. It burns his tongue, a soothing feeling blesses the back of his throat as he swallows the honey-tasting liquid. 

His hopes the tea would help wake him up a bit go unsated as his eyelids grow yet heavier as the minutes go by. Nonetheless, the teacup grows vacant before the next hour arrives, and he sets it down on the table just to the right of him with a clink, lets himself fall to hit his head on the pillow that's found itself rested on the arm of the couch, scares a startled Sylveon off his lap that jumps back up with a chirp, weasels itself under his arm, cuddles up to his chest.

Without another word being so much as muttered, he dozes off, arms around Sylveon, nose in the nape of its neck. It dozes off, too, ribbons snugly wrapped around his wrists.

...

_6:15 a.m._

It's around the time Opal usually likes to wake Bede up, although there's still many hours left before they depart for the gym -- it's not good to sleep in too late.

She makes her way down the stairs to wake him up and get him ready for the day, a small creak sounding for every step -- Alcremie follows behind; one of her special talents is helping to get Bede awake, with how cold she is to the touch and how she's "so messy", according to Bede's words.

The bright gleams of the gigantic fungi nestled just outside the window shine down on the sight of the boy, asleep with a blanket messily wrapped around his waist from how much he's moved around in his drowse and an equally fidgety Sylveon in his arms, with her fur as messed up and scraggly as his hair. With a smile, she gently pulls the blanket out from under him, tucks him in along with the pink feline-like Pokemon.

"I can wait to wake him up -- just this once."


End file.
